


leviathan

by Husaria



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beauty and the Beast Fusion, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst, Biblical References, Blood and Violence, Dragon Ann Walker, F/F, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Knight Anne Lister, Mutual Pining, Religious Guilt, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-07 09:45:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19206856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Husaria/pseuds/Husaria
Summary: "But it's-it'simpossiblefor me to fall in love with a man. I'vetriedso, so many times. Now I'm sure that I'll remain a beast forever."Sir Anne of Shibden Hall hears stories about the dragon of Crow Nest and travels to the border with Scotland to slay it for glory. Instead, she finds the castle inhabited by a young woman with golden hair, cursed with a body of terror in the day and a body of beauty at night. The two grow closer and discover more about the nature of the curse and each other, as forces beyond their control threaten to tear them apart.





	leviathan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this plot bunny got trapped in my head so here it is. This was supposed to be a oneshot, but it ahhh, expanded. I really like dragons.
> 
> YES, this will have a happy ending even if certain sections are angsty as hell. Will add more characters as they appear. I did some basic research on England in the High Middle Ages, but as I'm not a medievalist nor specialize in English history, I apologize for any inaccuracies.
> 
> Also Halyfax and West Treding are old names for Halifax and West Riding. Shibden Hall didn't exist until centuries later but I'm taking some liberties with that.

The Northumberland moors stretched forever, a wide green expanse under a gray sky. Fog settled as a soft, soupy blanket atop the grasses. Purple heather draped over the hillsides and copses were dotted throughout the country. In the distance, hills stopped suddenly and became small cliffs. The land was so vast, so empty that there was hardly a road to lead her horse on.

It had been two days since she had seen another human soul on these roads. At the previous town’s inn, men laughed when she asked for clearer directions to Crow Nest. Other lone riders traveled to the castle but never returned; what made Anne more special than them?

“Shh, shh.” Anne gave Argus a pat on the neck. “Only mist.”

She raised her head and lifted her helmet’s visor.

 _We’re here_.

The fog swirled around a massive stone castle, surrounded by multiple rings of walls. In the center, from what Anne could see, was a keep with several towers. A stone bridge over a dry, dirt-filled moat led into a wooden entrance. The sun fell below the horizon behind her, bathing the stones in a soft orange light.

The soft sound of hooves on dirt gave way to the sharp _clop_ of hooves on stone.

She tugged on the reins for Argus to stop.

“Stay.”

Anne’s horse whinnied nervously as she dismounted at the beginning of the stone bridge. The big gray stallion took a few steps forward.

“Argus, _stay_.”

Argus stamped his hooves in irritation but stopped. She pulled her bow and quiver over her back.

“You’ll be alright,” Anne said. “I’ll be back, eventually.”

She simply rolled her eyes as Argus threw his head back and forth.

Anne drew her bow and said a quick prayer. She was not as skilled with a bow as her sword, but she had no hope to fight a fire-breathing, flying creature with one.

She closed her visor and sprinted across the bridge, leaning against the door. The skies remained empty. No one manned the castle walls.

 _If I return to Shibden and Halyfax with a dragon’s head on Argus’ back…_ The hero of Yorkshire, no, the North of England. Sir Anne of Shibden Hall, Dragonslayer.

Marian begged her not to go, not while Aunt Anne was ill, and refused to speak another word to her. Her father told her good bye, but she noticed a sadness in his eyes she hadn’t seen since her brothers and mother died. But she _had_ to go. If she didn’t try, Aunt Anne would—

Anne shook her head. She mustn’t think about such things now. Not when she was so close to her purpose.

She pushed the massive wooden entrance door and found it unlocked. Of course, the door was open. Who would willingly go to a dragon-guarded castle?

Behind the entrance was the castle’s outer ward, a plain, dirt-covered courtyard that the castle’s guards would use to defend the castle.

Ducking behind the wall on the other side, she peeked out from another archway and quickly scanned the skies. No sign of it. Her arrow would have to aim straight and true into the dragon’s eye, where it would be at its weakest. If she loosed a number of arrows at it and missed, she would be spotted before it reached the dragon.

A soft _swishing_ sound came from behind her.

Anne ducked behind a wall and shut her eyes, breathing as fast as her body would allow, running a verse from Revelations through her mind. _…And there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away._

She slowly opened her eyes.

Above her flew one of the most beautiful and terrifying of God’s creatures she had witnessed. A _dragon_ —whose gold scales glittered in the sun’s dying light, whose wingspan swallowed half of the ward. Unlike the stories she heard, the dragon only had two legs, not four. Its entire head was framed by a crest of white horns, which transformed into spikes running down the length of its frilled spine. Anne didn’t know whether to cry in fear or gasp in awe.

A pang of sadness hit her when she realized she would have to kill it.

She bit her lip.

The dragon folded its wings and landed somewhere within the keep—probably a courtyard.

If she followed the dragon inside, she would be trapped in corridors, but stone walls could also protect her from being seen. Out here, she would be exposed in the open, and she would burn like tinder.

Anne entered the next archway and into the next ring. It contained a beautiful garden covered in roses and peonies and lilies arranged in neat little squares.

Then, a window in the tallest tower flickered with light.

Candlelight. In a room in one of the keep’s towers. A figure in the window—a _person_.

Anne couldn’t recall any stories mentioning a person trapped in the castle. A hostage of the dragon?

She _had_ to get inside and learn more about them—or at least, save them from the keep’s most dangerous resident.

She nocked an arrow and darted from wall to wall, periodically checking the skies. It grew more difficult to see; the sun had already set.

Across the garden, Anne found a door to the main keep and pushed it open.

Light? Someone had lit torches in the entrance hall. That same person in the tower? Anne took one of them off the wall and entered the castle.

Clean tapestries hung on the walls, depicting hunts, religious scenes, the Conquest. Small windows looked out into the garden and another courtyard. The floor was covered in a red carpet. She passed through hallways, a dining hall, a small kitchen, a study, the small courtyard where the dragon had landed.

At last, Anne found herself at the bottom of a spiral, stone stairwell which led to the tallest tower.

Her torch in front of her, Anne ascended. A nervous knot formed in the middle of her stomach. She had no way of knowing if the stranger was friend or foe.

She stopped. Someone descended the staircase. She heard their footsteps.

“Hello?” Anne asked.

“Is someone there?”

A gentle voice responded to her, a woman’s. Anne lifted her visor.

A beautiful woman with gold, wavy hair framing a gentle face stood at the top of the staircase, wearing a white nightgown. She held a silver candleholder in one hand.

“My lady,” said Anne. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

She took one step forward, and the woman took a step back.

“Hurt?” she said timidly. “I can ask the same for you.”

Anne shook her head impatiently. “My lady, we _must_ leave this place. The dragon could come at any minute—”

Fear flashed in the other woman’s eyes. “It won’t hurt you,” she said.

Anne scoffed. “My lady, it is a _dragon_ —”

“Yes, and—and it won’t harm you, I can promise you that.”

Anne gave her a puzzled look.

“It’s not here now anyway,” she said. “It went hunting.” The woman stepped forward until she was on the step right above Anne’s. “I-I’m sure you’ve had a long journey to come this way.”

“Well _yes_ , I have,” said Anne. “But that’s not the point—”

“You can stay the night if you’d like.”

Anne chewed her lip. The woman seemed unconcerned that the castle was also inhabited by a dragon. But she was right. Anne’s muscles were sore from riding and crouching for most of the last hour, and she hadn’t slept in a bed in nearly a week. _And_ she was pretty.

“Th-Thank you, my lady.”

“May I ask your name, errr, sir?”

“My name is Anne, Anne of Shibden Hall,” she said.

The woman smiled. “That’s my name as well. Are you a knight?”

“No…yes,” said Anne.

“A lady knight.” Ann smiled, and Anne’s heart swelled. “Is your squire outside the castle walls? Feel free to bring him inside.”

“Oh…” Anne frowned. “I-I don’t have a squire.”

“Don’t most knights have a squire?” Ann said.

“Yes…”

“Why don’t you?”

“It’s…a bit complicated,” replied Anne.

“You have a horse though.”

“I do.”

“Where is he?”

“By the stone bridge,” said Anne. “I didn’t want to fall off in case the dragon frightened him.”

Ann smiled. “Please lead him in. I would love to meet him.”

Anne turned down the steps, stopping. She forgot how many turns it took to get to the staircase and with it already being dark outside—

“I’ll lead you,” Ann said. “I wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

“Of course, my lady.” Anne moved to one side so Ann could pass. She felt a familiar feeling in her stomach, watching her delicately step down the staircase and how her nightgown moved so _slightly_ and she could see the beginning of freckles on her shoulders.

Ann led her through the black halls, their flames the only source of light with the sun having set. Anne tried to make a note of the directions they took to the outer ward.

“Argus!” Anne exclaimed. She whistled.

With a loud neigh, Argus galloped across the stone bridge and into the ward. He nudged Anne’s hand as she took his reins.

“I have nothing for you,” she said flatly.

“Argus, you say?” asked Ann. “Hello, Argus.”

Argus sniffed Ann’s hand and allowed her to pat his nose.

“She doesn’t have food either,” said Anne.

“But there’s plenty of food for you in the stable,” said Ann. “But it may be a bit stale for you.”

“Are there other horses here?”

“There once were.”

“Mmm.” _There’s hay for a stable with no horses_.

But Ann held out her candle and led them to the castle’s stables. Anne took off Argus’ saddle and gathered her clothes and provisions from the saddle bag, carrying them under one arm.

“Come,” Ann said. “There are many rooms in the keep. I’ll show you a few.”

“Thank you,” said Ann.

Ann led her back through the spiral staircase and down a hallway with several doors. “Feel free to take any of these. I hope it’s to your liking.”

“I’m grateful for any lodging, my lady,” said Anne.

She opened the door. The room was clean, with a small table, a four-poster bed, and a window overlooking a black lake with a forest on its shores.

“I’m sorry for any dust,” said Ann. “These rooms are a bit old.”

Anne ran her fingers over the table. No dust. “I suppose you don’t have guests very often.”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Ann said sadly. “I…the dragon tends to…take care of most people who enter the castle.”

“You mean kill.”

Ann flinched. “…Perhaps.”

“Why _are_ you in this castle?” asked Anne. “If the dragon is as benevolent as you say, why don’t you just leave and be with your family?”

“It’s a bit more complicated.”

“I’m sure it is, but—”

“Y-You must be tired,” said Ann suddenly. “And it’s getting dark.”

“Are you _certain_ the dragon will not attack us?” asked Anne. She hung her bow on the table and rested her sword against the wall.

“I swear,” said Ann. “I promise, you will _not_ be attacked.”

Anne narrowed her eyes. Ann looked frailer than her, and she could easily knock her out if it came to it. She had no knife or any other weapon on her. Which would only leave Anne with the dragon.

“I can bring you some fresh clothes in the morning if you’d like,” said Ann. “And food.”

“That would be lovely, thank you,” said Anne. She dipped her torch into the hearth on the other side of the bed, instantly brightening the room.

She sat down on the bed and nearly fell back on the sheets from exhaustion. She took off her helmet and rested it on the nightstand, her braided hair finally free.

“Crow Nest is far, far away from the nearest town,” said Ann. She removed the candle from its holder and used its flame to light a few other candles in Anne’s room.

“Thank you,” Anne said.

“Why have you come here, Sir Anne of Shibden Hall?”

“I’ve come to slay the dragon.”

Ann paused, mid-light. “…So you are.”

Some of the wax dripped from Ann’s candle onto the table.

Just as Anne raised an eyebrow, Ann continued to light the candles. “May I ask why?”

“Why I wish to kill a giant fire-breathing beast terrorizing Northumberland?”

Ann slowly put her candle back in its holder.

“To free the common people from it, to—” _Be recognized as a knight._ “For the glory of God.”

Ann’s shoulders sagged.

“Is it also true that dragon’s blood has healing properties?”

“Healing?” Ann turned around and leaned against the table. Her green eyes glistened. “Yes, why?”

“My aunt is…is ill.” Anne sighed. “If I can just slay the beast and take some of its blood, it could be a panacea for her ailment.”

“You don’t have to slay a dragon to do that,” said Ann.

“How else will I get dragon’s blood?”

Ann blinked rapidly. She looked away from her and walked towards the window.

“Would you happen to know the usual time it rises?” asked Anne. “I’m afraid I’m too tired to face it right now.”

“I-I’m not sure,” said Ann. “The hours it rises…depends on its mood. It enjoys hunting at night. I’m not sure when it will be back.”

“Mmm. It most likely is nocturnal,” Anne mused. She undid the laces in her breastplate and greaves, sighing with the extra weight that came off her.

She looked up, and Ann quickly turned back to the window.

“Where did you say you were from? I don't recall...” asked Ann.

“Shibden Hall, close to Halyfax,” Anne explained. “In West Treding.”

“West Treding?” Ann gasped. “That’s over 100 miles away. It must have been such an exhausting journey.”

“It took around five days, my lady.” She joined Ann by the window.

“Five days,” murmured Ann.

Anne glanced at her. Ann had clenched her jaw and stared straight into the forest, her eyes distant.

“Are you alright?” asked Anne.

“I’m fine,” said Ann. “Would you like anything else?”

Free of her armor, Anne suddenly felt aware of sweat and grime sticking to her skin. “If it’s not too much to ask, is there any place I may take a bath?”

“Yes, yes,” said Ann, shaking her head. “Be free to use the lake to bathe.”

Anne made a mental note to wake up earlier to speak more with her and kill the dragon as it came back to sleep.

“I shouldn’t keep you from resting,” said Ann. “You must have had a—a—” She covered her mouth as she yawned.

Anne chuckled. “And you say _I’m_ the tired one. Perhaps _you_ should go to sleep.”

“Perhaps,” said Ann. She rubbed her eyes. “There’s a market town not too far from here that I’ll be going to at first light. I apologize if I’m not here when you wake.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Anne hoped that the disappointment wasn’t too audible in her voice.

“I’ll be back by evening,” said Ann. “If I’m not too tired by then, I would like to speak with you more.”

“Of course,” said Anne. “However, if I slay the dragon by evening, I may be on my way back to Shibden. My need for dragon’s blood is urgent.”

“I understand,” Ann said softly. Her lower lip trembled. “On that note, good night, Sir Anne of Shibden Hall.”

“Oh…good night, Ann of Crow Nest.”

Ann closed the door.

After removing the last of her armor, Anne made the Sign of the Cross and knelt down by her bedside, clasping her hands.

_God, come to my assistance._

_Lord, make haste to help me…_

As she continued her evening prayers, she felt keenly aware of the heat from the candles behind her and the fire roaring in the hearth. A knot formed in her throat.

_O Lord, have mercy on me if I die tomorrow._

Anne took a deep breath to blow out the candles before recognizing a silver candleholder on the table. She picked it up and opened the door.

“Ann?”

No one responded in the dark hallway.

Ann must have walked all the way back to her room without a candle.

The warm feeling in Anne’s stomach was replaced with a sudden unease, and she closed the door again. She blew out the light.


End file.
